


Pumpkins, Cherries and Sunlight

by TheWordAlchemist



Series: World's Finest [1]
Category: DC Animated Universe, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWordAlchemist/pseuds/TheWordAlchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My hands grew sweaty and the hairs on my neck stood on end. This was ridiculous. “I’m Batman,” I told my reflection. “I face down murderers, torturers and crime lords every day. I have fought aliens, immortals, even a god. I have been to hell and back.”<br/>"Yes, but Master Bruce, you have never been in love."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pumpkins, Cherries and Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to try for cute and fluffy for once in my life.
> 
> This is un-beta'd so all errors are mine.

We were on patrol, checking the moon for any more explosives, when I saw the Earth rise. I had seen it only a couple times before, but never had I paused to really appreciate it. My gasp was barely audible, but of course he heard it. “I’ve seen it a hundred times and still it takes my breath away.” He was behind me, so close that, were we on earth, I’d feel his breath on my neck. I closed my eyes, relishing the closeness for a moment. Then, I remembered and stepped forward, carefully checking my handheld. Distance Bat, I told myself. Always distance. I turned around and he had barely noticed my movement. Of course. The handheld beeped. The moon was clean so we returned to the shuttle. I said little, which was normal. He barely filled the silence, which wasn’t. Ordinarily, he had the most beautiful serene half-smile as his default expression. Today he looked blank, almost sullen. I felt a tug in my chest and gripped the arms of my chair as tight as I could to stop myself from reaching out to him. After a moment, I trusted myself to speak. “Clark, what is it?” He looked at me and smiled briefly. “Nothing.” He was lying. I knew he was lying. He knew I knew, but there was no point trying to force the issue. He’d tell me later, over dinner at the manor. Dick often joked about how much we ate. Clark always laughed at his jokes, deep and clear and light. Not at all like mine. Diana would get there before us. She always did when we went away. ‘I like to welcome my boys home,’ she’d say. When we first met, I never would have expected something so thoroughly maternal in the Amazon. But she was like Clark in that way: powerful and gentle, fierce and kind in equal measure.

  
Clark was silent the rest of the way back to the watchtower and said little when J’onn boomed us down to the manor. We went to our usual rooms to change into civilian dress. Alfred handed a well-worn pair of jeans and a comfortable, faded polo shirt, informing me that Diana would not be present. She had not given a reason. I looked in the long, mahogany framed mirror and felt my heart rate increase. My hands grew sweaty and the hairs on my neck stood on end. This was ridiculous. “I’m Batman,” I told my reflection. “I face down murderers, torturers and crime lords every day. I have fought aliens, immortals, even a god. I have been to hell and back.”  
"Yes, but Master Bruce, you have never been in love." I fixed Alfred with my meanest, most vicious glare. "That will not be necessary, Master Bruce. You forget I helped you master that particular grimace." I felt my cheeks go warm as Alfred carefully obscured a smirk.

  
Clark was already pouring out glasses of wine when I arrived. Strangely, his hand shook slightly. He flashed a slightly over-bright smile and handed me the glass. Our fingers brushed and we both recoiled, dropping the glass. It spilled its honey coloured contents into the thick, burgundy carpet and, as always, Alfred appeared to clean up the mess. “I would be very grateful if you would refrain from damaging the antiques. Dinner is ready and waiting.”

  
The drawing room we used for dinner was small, intimate. ‘The Bat lounge’, Jason called it once. He’d spent too much time with Dick that summer. It always seemed cozy when it was all three of us, but was almost cramped now. Beneath the ratatouille I could smell the subtle musk of his favourite cologne. “Any idea why Diana couldn’t make it?” I asked, in an attempt to fill the silence.” Clark shook his head. He was still lying. I put down my spoon and looked at him. “Clark, what is it? I am your friend, you know you can tell me anything.” He stopped his spoon midway to his mouth. “After dinner Bruce, please.” I sighed and returned to my meal. When dessert arrived - Alfred’s pumpkin and cherry pie - I failed miserably at sounding casual. “Alfred truly is a wonderful cook.” The vapid joviality of Brucie slipped through in the coarsest, most forced way. Clark nodded in agreement, apparently unaware of how ridiculous I sounded. We fell back into silence.

  
Alfred came back to refill our water jug, as we had both been drinking a lot. There was time a time when Clark felt utterly out of place with this level of service and felt compelled to help. Alfred was firm but clear until Clark forced himself to accept it. We had been born into separate world in so many ways, and somehow our friendship had bridged that gap. I still wasn’t altogether sure how. I resigned myself to subtly observing the man as we silently ate dessert. The confident squareness of his shoulders was all Superman, the look of silent stoicism all Kal-El, and the unkempt sweep of dark hair all Clark Kent. This jumbled amalgam of three distinct, utterly authentic identities could level cities in a heart beat, but instead rescued cats from trees and brought toys to sick children.

  
I put down my spoon. Clark cleared his throat. “Would you like to go to the observatory?” I raised an eyebrow. “Please?” He added. I led the way. Maybe he’d finally tell me what was on his mind. When we got up there, Clark opened up the roof to the chilly night air and put a blanket over my shoulders. Unless I was mistaken, his fingers lingered half a beat longer than was strictly necessary before he stepped away. “Clark, what is on your mind? Why isn’t Diana here?” He looked up at the starless sky and ran his short, spatula-headed fingers through his hair. “Clark, is this about Lois?” He was silent for a few seconds before sighing. “No, not really,” he said, before falling silent again.  
"Clark," I took the plunge. "Clark, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. But you were still moving on from Lois so I - " he stepped towards me and his face was just inches from mine. He smiled the lop-sided smile of the gangly, awkward teen from his Kansas farm world. Before I realised what I was doing, I bridged the gap and our lips touched. He made a small noise of surprise and started back. I turned away. "Clark, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - " He broke into a laugh.  
"Diana was right!" He picked me up and spun me round like a child before embracing me with all the warmth I knew his to possess. "She said and she was right." I could hardly keep from laughing. Of course that’s why she wasn’t here, I smiled to myself, The old Amazon knew. I looked at him, and ran my hand gently through his hair. He stroked my cheek so gently it was like being touched by a whisper, I kissed him them, consciously and truly. He kissed me back. He tasted like pumpkins and cherries and sunlight. There was fire in that kiss and I drank it down. For a moment nothing existed in all the multiverse except us. When I opened my eyes, we were flying. Not especially high, just high enough for us to land comfortable on the roof and listen to the sounds of a sleeping Gotham. I rested my head on Clark’s shoulder and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
